


I may not know how to tell you this, but I'll try

by Jay (vasswrites), vasswrites



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Emotions, Fluff, I just wanted them clearing things up, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, Not Beta Read, Not necessarily romantic nor platonic, References to Shakespeare, Shakespeare Quotations, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), and getting their emotions there, at the end, author has no idea how to talk about emotions but is trying, but you can view this however you like, while I try to put it into words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21604681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vasswrites/pseuds/Jay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vasswrites/pseuds/vasswrites
Summary: Throughout 6000 years, Aziraphale and Crowley have gone through making up after fights simply by dismissing the issue. Years and years of giving themselves time to think, only to return and talk as if nothing happened didn't seem to sit well with Crowley.Crowley and Azirphale talk through a few moments that could have changed how they were today in Soho, London. Moments in the past that caused them feelings of abandonment. Moments they wished the other was okay.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	1. Why am I here with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ritz was their go-to location. They dined and talked. They watched their surroundings and lived. But it didn't always mean that The Ritz was a place that necessarily needed to have happy conversations.

He always knew that not everything made much sense in the universe and he did his best to avoid questioning it. He believed that god’s plan was ineffable, something unexplainable to any being, living or not. But Crowley didn’t. He didn’t bother hiding any question regarding the matter of her creations. Sure, Aziraphale wasn’t very keen on his preferred ways of spreading havoc for his work, but it was something he had been told to do so he did. Same goes for him, miracles weren’t much of a hassle to do, but it didn’t mean he always enjoyed what happens if the humans don’t comply.

But that isn’t applicable anymore- Not since Armageddon failed to happen. 

Ever since then, Crowley saw Aziraphale slowly accepting his curious mind. Ever so hungry for more information that one might think he was actually a normal bookshop owner looking for something new to learn about before his life ended.

(Two ideas were wrong in that statement. One, he wasn’t a normal bookshop owner. Hardly even considered a bookshop owner. And two, his life wasn’t ending anytime soon.)

He slowly slipped in questions mid-conversation ever so easily that he might have done it for 6000 years already. Aziraphale gradually became more vocal about what he wanted to know, what he thought, but never about what he felt.

Crowley noticed that. How couldn’t he? When the angel he constantly accompanies talks about how the food they just ate was scrumptious or how lovely it was that the humans managed to create a new thing. All the topics of the universe, but never about how he felt when it came to the demon he was with.

Multiple times have they gone and went from different restaurants all over the world, but not a single one ended with them saying ‘thank you for being with me’. Multiple drinking sessions at the bookshop with loopy smiles and cracking voices, but not a single ‘I thought I was going to lose you’ or ‘I only told you we weren’t friends to protect you’. Every single day Crowley hoped for something- some explanation as to why Aziraphale said those things that day. Hoping that it wasn’t actually meant to hurt him. But his mind can only wander so far without thinking that Aziraphale wouldn’t feel insulted that he’d bother to think of something so absurd.

In all aspects, Crowley couldn’t even fathom the fact that he had feelings for the angel. Whether or not it was romantic or platonic, he just knew he wanted to protect him. An internal instinct to be there for the one other being that managed to catch his attention from the beginning. To comfort him with his favourite food and stories when he was sad. To see that he’d be happy if ever he read a book that he didn’t like the story of. To drink with him and keep him company for more millennia to come. To be someone he could openly talk to without the fear of Heaven or Hell breathing down their necks.

And he hoped that it would change today.

He was going to ask Aziraphale what he thought of him. Why he hangs out with him when there are so many interesting minds wandering around this bloody planet they were stuck on. Why continue to stay on Earth even when he was offered to go back to Heaven instead of being stuck with him. Why prefer cones over lollies?

“Angel,” Crowley’s voice sounded raspy, but it was a start. He looked at Aziraphale across the table who just finished another bite of the cake he ordered. (Not really across, more like a seat away from him) 

“Yes, my boy?” He still wasn’t use to that reply. 

The celestial being looked at him straight in the eye and suddenly everything Crowley wanted to say got shoved down back into the pit that kept everything he hid for 6000 years. He would have continued doing it if it wasn’t for Aziraphale humming in question at him.

“Why are you still on Earth?” 

“Pardon me? I do think that’s quite rude to ask but I don’t understand what you’re trying to get-”

“I meant! Why do you eat out with me?” He should have phrased it better, but that’s as best as his sorry excuse of a brain would let him get out.

Aziraphale pondered for a moment before he settled the tissue back down on the table and looked back towards the demon beside him. He smiled for a moment before speaking up. 

“My dear, if you must know, I adore your company.” He gave a look that Crowley could only describe as pain, but why? “I know I’ve been distant more than once for the past few millennia, but I truly am sorry. I’m not that great with handling a rush of emotions so quickly all for and from one person.”

Rush of emotions? He didn’t mean- “The Holy Water...” Crowley mouthed.

Aziraphale nodded and turned his whole body towards Crowley. This time allowing himself to fully give his attention for the man-shaped figure with him. “I apologize for leaving you alone afterwards. I was afraid, I admit. Years before that, I lashed out on you at the park thinking you’ve gone mad wanting to commit to killing yourself even if we were doing fine with the Arrangement and going steady.” 

‘Going steady’. Crowley repeated in his mind as his stomach did a somersault.

“You were, and still are, someone I wouldn’t mind being with, Crowley. I didn’t spend over 6 millennia with you just because you were the only other immortal being on Earth, my dear.” 

“So why did you?” He inquired, looking down at where Aziraphale’s hand landed on the table near his. Fear entered his thoughts about what he was about to reply and chose to look at the table instead of the angel’s face.

“Because you were the only being that I considered my friend.” 

‘Friend’. If Crowley heard that work being associated with him months back, he would have thrown something across the room. But he might not, now. After his attempt of calling him his friend at the bandstand, he didn’t expect this to be the outcome of what could have killed them. Not on any day.

Aziraphale remained silent as he watched Crowley take in what he just said. He forms a small smile as he watched the demon comprehend what he himself tried to accept for years and years alone. He still wasn’t that used to it since he needed not to use it before this, but he found it endearing and right.

Crowley snapped out of it as soon as Aziraphale clapped his hands together with glee. “Now then, up for some drinks at the bookshop? I recall you mentioning you wanted to try another one soon.”

He makes a sound of agreement, currently stuck on autopilot. Crowley may not have fully grasped what Aziraphale told him literally a few seconds ago (or minutes? He didn’t keep track). He had more questions regarding the topic, but maybe god plans them to be asked on another day. Just not today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's that! Key note: The chapters get longer, so please bear with me :'D Have fun with the next one!


	2. What did we miss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A situation required the two to meet at the Bandstand in London. Words were shared then and until now, things remain to be left unmentioned.

The angel of the eastern gate was seen carrying a book around town. He did quite a lot that day, if you compared what he did to what he was known to do inside his bookshop. He walked past a fountain and greeted the birds, chatted to a few children at a nearby school. He even visited Shadwell to check up on them after what happened. But before returning back to the bookshop, he also entered the flower shop that newly opened right across the street. Looked around for a bit, said his thanks and gratitude for keeping them alive and lovely then left.

Although he was carrying a book that looked rough around the edges, with a bookmark sticking out like a coloured crayon amongst ballpoint pens, he never really took a moment to sit down and read it while he was up and about. So as soon as he returned to the bookshop, he made cocoa and proceeded to read the book once more at his table.

Hours passed by as his routine of reading ended up lasting for a day before a sound entered the bookshop, breaking the bookshop’s serenity. 

“Angel, I bought you some sushi.” Crowley’s voice rang throughout the shop as he plumped down on the couch he usually stayed on. (That is, if he wasn’t walking around the place trying to make a point he could never really reach.) “What’s on today’s list of books you never cease to get tired of?”

Aziraphale set down his glasses as he huffed and closed the book to walk over to the seat directly across the couch Crowley sat on. Cocoa forgotten and cold on the table. “I’ve gotten to go over one of Shakespeare’s plays once more.”

He reached for the sushi and began eating while Crowley grunted in disgust. “None of those tragedies you always like.” 

“Actually, dear” Aziraphale said, “I assume you’ve gone to watch The Taming of the Shrew?”

Crowley’s head lifted up a bit as he looked at Aziraphale questioningly. “Yes, obviously. Is that the one you read?”

The angel nodded, took a bite of the sushi and smirked as he said, “’There’s small choice in rotten apples’, isn’t there Crowley?”

“Mocking me now, are we?” Crowley grinned as he leaned forward and took a moment before replying. “’I see a woman may be made a fool, if she had not a spirit to resist’. Temptations are my thing, angel. It’s not like I couldn’t continue living how I was issued to be.” He leaned back on the couch, removing his glasses and placing them on the desk somewhere beside him.

“Nonsense. You know as well as I that we haven’t exactly been the best at being what we’re supposed to be, dear.” Aziraphale almost stuttered but proceeded to eating more of his gifted sushi.

“Ngk,” Crowley replied. Half-assed, but he tried to come up with a retort and failed.

Shakespeare ended up leading their topics from one to another. Going from talking about how the globe theatre looked wonderful in the dark to how horses felt bad on their bottoms when riding on is for so long. They kept going circles and the forgotten cocoa continued to grow colder by the hour. Soon, they grabbed some alcohol that lead to them continuing a conversation from months back.

Aziraphale knew this was bound to happen soon, so he wasn’t that held back when the conversation slowly stirred to this direction. He had the feeling of something heavy placed around his chest. Hindering him from breathing properly, even if he himself didn’t necessarily require breathing, unlike his corporation. 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale looked up at him after setting down the plate. “Do you remember when we went to the bandstand?”

Crowley grew pale at the mention of the said location. Of course, he knew, it was a moment he didn’t really want to remember but couldn’t ever forget. The moment under the sunset that began to make him slow down his actions that have slowed down years prior already. 

“The conversation we had- “

“About Armageddon.” He was glad sometime between drinks, he placed his shades back on, for it hid what he feared to let loose. “You said some things, so what?”

“That’s what I’m trying to get to, my boy.” Aziraphale fidgeted with his fingers around the glass, formulating words he never really considered but only thought of saying. 

“Armageddon cause me to be in such a fit. I said things I didn’t consider would hurt you. I mentioned your past that might have hit a mark. I went there only to push you away. Confronting you about the information I had only meant you could have gotten hurt when someone realized that we’ve been doing more things than just casually passing by the other.”

“I didn’t mean for you to leave. In retrospect, I think a part of me hoped you would have stopped me and continued to push me to go with you and find another way out of it.” He looked up from his glass to glance at the demon sitting ever so still on the couch he’d been on for hours. “It hurt me to see you leave. Accepting what I said just like that… but I could understand how you felt. So, I’m so- “

“Nope. Don’t give me any of that bullshit. Don’t apologize, angel.” Crowley snapped as he leaned forward to get closer to Aziraphale, wanting to get his point across. 

Aziraphale gripped his glass harder from the sudden outburst. “Why shouldn’t I? I hurt you and seeing you at the bar alone felt really depressing- “

“I was there for other reasons. But no. You shouldn’t feel sorry for what happened.” Crowley looked directly at Aziraphale’s eyes, still fearing to remove his shades, but preferring to keep contact. (Even if he thinks it was one sided.) “We were both in the wrong. It won’t take a genius to see that. But we were also restless from what was about to happen. Armageddon was a few days away and we weren’t any closer to figuring out how to stop it from happening.”

“Whether you knew where the Antichrist was or not, didn’t matter to me. I was hurt, sure, but,” Crowley paused, trying to find the right words to say it. “But I didn’t want you to have me around if it meant I was some sort of weight on your shoulders, Aziraphale.”

None of them uttered a word for the next few minutes. Thoughts circulated around the duo’s heads, none of theirs ever really setting themselves in stone. Finding something to talk about after the statement didn’t seem to be something that made them feel any better.

Both sides wondered where they went wrong. What clues did they miss that caused the other to misinterpret? Why didn’t they think that the other could have wanted the best for them, to avoid them hurting, but only doing so in the process? They felt dumbfounded. Inquiring. And the more obvious emotion they both had at that moment: Melancholy.

They didn’t have time to think of what was happening at that moment at the bandstand. They couldn’t have thought of better wordings or ways to make up then and there. It felt so surreal to even look back at it, with how they didn’t seem to care about most things these days when they were together. It wasn’t something they had the courage to  
talk about either. Not until now.

“Oh, dear boy, I’m so sorry.” Aziraphale quickly continued, “I know you don’t want me to apologize for anything I did, but truly I am. I didn’t think that you were ever a weight on my shoulder, dear. True, you may have caused a fit once or twice, but never have I seen you as someone I would feel the responsibility to care for. Not once, ever.” Crowley’s shoulder slumped and he took a shaky deep breath. He forgot he needed to breath for a moment, else his corporation would scream at him for not doing so. 

“I’m not a hindrance?” He tested, scared and silently hoping to be right with a part of him saying he was wrong.

“I did just say that, so yes. You haven’t been someone I wanted to scream at for a while. And you still aren’t.” Aziraphale gave a small giggle and dared himself to clasp his hands around Crowley’s, which lied on his knees. He looked at him with soft eyes, wishing he could see the same. “You’re okay, Crowley. I’m not here to hurt you. And I hope you aren’t either.”

The demon could have sworn he didn’t tear up, but him swallowing big meant to prove him otherwise. Aziraphale must have notice this for he started rubbing circles on his hand with his thumb. He was trying to comfort the redhead without coming across too strong at the moment. He was hesitant yet careful not to startle the only other being who he tolerated and ended up wanting to be with.

“I won’t either.” Crowley managed to reply. 

‘I wouldn’t before, and I wouldn’t now. Or ever. I promise.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this hahaha I had to rewatch episode 3 to get a grip of the things they mentioned. So there's that. Have fun with the next chapter! It's quite a ride-


	3. Where we could have been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bookshop held memories from decades that it manage to remain upright. All those years except for one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is... a ride so hahaha Spare me, I tried my best and so here you go! Chapter 3!
> 
> Update: I added a doodle of a scene in this one! (https://twitter.com/_vaxxu068/status/1200869730346684416?s=20)

Conversations were always a thing Crowley preferred not to have. However, if you bothered to ask him about his plants, he might make more of an effort to tell you about than talking about the weather or about the new big hit blockbuster movie. Granted, he’d proceed to scream in process of re-enacting his way of ‘talking’ to his plants.

So, when he and Aziraphale talked about points in his life that almost caused him to scream so loud internally, that the whole world might have shook and cracked at the core, best come to the conclusion that it took him a while to get over.

So, the past few days turned into months. And months into years. Time passed far too quickly for the two immortal beings roaming around the Earth. They chose to take a break from London for a moment, wanting to see the world once more but with a newer perspective. One that made them happy to be breathing, happy to be here and happy with a reason to continue.

After a while, they ended up back in Soho, London. Back in an angel’s odd antique bookshop that proceeded to dust itself weekly. (With the help of a demonic miracle that the angel didn’t bother questioning why.)

The two have decided to postpone their occasional drinking session. Well, not purposely. They had a visitor a few hours prior to now. One that was known to hold a strong relation and descendance to the (not anymore) known Agnes Nutter, Witch.

Anathema had decided to take a small visit to London. She passed by to give her greetings as well as mentioning that she and Newt were on their way to his flat to gather his things. In preparation for their now shared cottage at Tadfield. Sure, their relationship was a tad bit forced because of Anathema’s prior knowledge about what was meant to happen, but both of them decided to take things slow through the years. Start from the beginning, get to know each other and feel comfortable around the other without the voice of someone you didn’t personally know telling you what to do.

“I’ll be on my way then.” Anathema gathered the last of the books she brought for Aziraphale and handed it over. Crowley took the pile and snapped it on the nearest desk. He would have placed it on his own, but unlike recent times with Aziraphale, he didn’t feel the need to try doing things the human way as of the moment.

“Be safe on your way home you two!” Aziraphale waved off the couple and proceeded to enter the bookshop. Crowley following suit.

Aziraphale grabbed one of the books that popped up on his desk and read the cover only to remember something from years back. “Do you recall the book the young lady had?” He asked.

“Who? The bicycle girl? Wasn’t it about prophecies and that witch you and a few people wanted so badly?” Crowley replied, sitting down on one of the armrests of his couch. (At this point, it might as well be labelled as his, with how often he stayed there compared to the angel.)

“The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch, yes.” Aziraphale turned to give Crowley a look of disappointment for a brief moment. “And do get to learning their names soon. It wouldn’t hurt to learn the names of two more people. You’ve been on Earth long enough to remember other names, why not theirs?”

Crowley shrugged after a few seconds of trying to think about why he’s trying to look like he was thinking about an answer. “As long as they mind their own business, I don’t really think it’s necessary.” Aziraphale sighed and took a seat to proceed reading the book.

A few minutes of silence never did good for Crowley’s brain. It always ended up running around in circles like a dog trying to catch his own bloody stupid tail. One single trigger and it sets off to run a mile. Multiplying by the second, with no intention to stop anytime soon. So, it kept running. The single mention of the book of prophecies told to be Nice and Accurate, brought back memories he wished he’d have forgotten or came to terms with.

The smell of food being passed behind him. People walking by him, glancing whenever he bothered to talk to them thinking they’d even reply. The smell of alcohol seething through and from him. The rush of emotions that went alongside the reason that he went to that building in the first place. It wasn’t a welcomed memory.

He sat still on the couch, blinking and staring at nothing in front of him. Not even bothering to take a breather for the reason he forgot and would later regret so, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was hit with the feeling he felt during that moment. He remembered the sensation he got as he entered the burning bookshop. Reminded about his million-lightyear dive into a pool of sulfur. (Or what was the closest human equivalent to it.) Smelling the burning books and ashes left behind. The feeling of running around the entire bookshop, hoping that the lost feeling wasn’t what he thought it was. That he was just mistaken and the angel he knew didn’t leave him for good.

Aziraphale heard a tiny stifle of a cry from behind him that broke his focus. He removed his glasses and glanced at Crowley. The demon was frozen in place, unbeknownst to him that he was tearing up. Quickly yet carefully, Aziraphale miracle a tissue and went over to him.

“Crowley, dear? Are you alright?” He asked as he kneeled in front of the demon. The starry-eyed angel slowly reached for Crowley’s shades, waiting for any sign that he might be against it. Without any negative reaction done, he proceeded to remove his shades, fold them and place them on the desk.

The moment Aziraphale saw Crowley’s eyes, his heart clenched. It folded in itself with the look of the demon’s eyes. Stuck in pain and sorrow. He looked as if he lost his Bentley- no wait, that wasn’t it. He looked as if he lost the only thing that kept him going. His eyes were foggy and unfocused. Aziraphale moved left to right to see if he could get a reaction from him, but showed no signs of success.

He was stuck in the past. Buried in some sort of painful memory. So much so that Aziraphale started to gather the same feelings from being in contact with him for just a few seconds. He didn’t like what he felt. It was a mix of so many emotions, but one stood out that he couldn’t quite understand.

“You feel grief.” Aziraphale echoed his thoughts out loud. It must have been louder than he expected because it caused Crowley to jolt, moving backwards, closer to the back of the couch. Testing the waters, he asked, “Why?”

Aziraphale immediately regretted his question the moment Crowley’s eyebrows furrowed slightly and his tears work their way down his cheek once more. He handed him his tissue but tried to wipe the tears away by himself instead.

“I’m so sorry, dear boy. Whatever I said that hurt you, I apologize.” He looked up at Crowley. He was still stuck, but slowly making progress to remember where he was. He gripped on the couch for dear life as he closed in himself. “Please, talk to me Crowley.”

Aziraphale gave him a few more minutes to recollect himself. Soon enough, Crowley lessened his grip and remembered that he needed to breath. Aziraphale, bless his angelic nature, ran him though a breathing exercise he learned decades back from helping few adults and children with their health.

“I’m sorry…” Crowley managed to let out. His voice seemed forced and painful. “I tried to find him. I really did- “. He began to stifle another cry.

“Shh, my dear. Whatever happened, it’s in the past.” Aziraphale sat beside him on the couch, careful not to startle him with the sudden dip on the furniture. He rubbed circular motions on his friend’s back. “Crowley, dear, please look at me.”

Crowley hesitated before glancing at Aziraphale. Not exactly facing him fully, but it was as good as it can be for now.

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale asked, in his ever so soft and caring voice. He didn’t want to cause another trigger for the man.

Crowley disagreed. “Not exactly the best day, ey, Angel?” He tried to chuckle but ended up coughing, which Aziraphale tried to help soothe out.

“None of that non-sense, Crowley. I’m worried about you… Would you like to talk about it?” Aziraphale inquired.

“I couldn’t sense you.”

Aziraphale was dismayed, having to lean back a bit to see Crowley clearly. “Sense me?”

“You weren’t in the bookshop. Before we met at the bar. I thought you were gone.” He looked ahead of him, straight ahead. Staring at a distance he couldn’t make out. “The bookshop was on fire. All I could grab was the book.”

Aziraphale was left speechless. Before he went back on Earth in pursue of possessing a human’s body, he was… Oh lord.

“Oh dear… I’m so sorry. I’m afraid I got discorporated when I was in the middle of a conversation with the Metatron… Oh, Crowley.”

Aziraphale couldn’t have understood what he felt. Aziraphale never had to deal with Crowley disappearing completely, without leaving even his aura or angelic presence to be felt halfway across the world. He wasn’t the one that had to visit a jail cell to check-up on someone he felt a friendly rivalry with. He couldn’t understand that, but he could see how much it affected him.

He couldn’t imagine just how much it would have felt to think that the only person you were left with that understood you better than anyone in the entire universe did, suddenly proofed and disappeared without your notice. Permanently. That he died in a place that looked exactly like how he feared his friend might have ended up in.

Aziraphale couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say to comfort his friend. All he did was hug him. Hug him as much as he could to transfer enough warmth to give his shaking friend the notion that he was there. He wasn’t alone right now. He was alive and is here with him in the same room Crowley thought he didn’t exist anymore.

“When you appeared in front of me at the bar, I thought I was finally at the peak of my absurdity with the questions and hallucinations that often came when I was in a fucking nightmare.” He gritted out the last few words that arose from years of pain that he handled by himself. Leaving the angel worried, angry and wanting to go back to protect that he used to think was just someone who wanted company.

Aziraphale took a deep breath and spoke. “You aren’t there anymore, Crowley. You’re in the bookshop that Adam Young restored. You’re sitting on the couch that you’ve always taken whenever you visited. You’re here and alive. I’m here. We’ve gone through it now.”

It pained him to say the next few lines, but it came out before he could think about it once more. “We’re together and alive, Crowley. I wouldn’t have left you without any notice. I’m sorry you went through that and I know I may never understand what it felt. And god help me, I hope I never would because losing you would mean I wouldn’t have someone to hold on to either.”

Crowley turned his head to look at Aziraphale. Cries lessened and breathing slowly shifting back to normal. And with complete sincerity and determination, he said, “You shouldn’t be made to experience that.”

The Crowley that Aziraphale had seen a few moments ago, the fragile, tampered, affected and pained Crowley, was slowly being covered up and helped by his own determined, willful and caring self.

How could he have not seen it? How blind was he that he couldn’t see the Crowley that possibly checked up on him even if he was in another country. The Crowley that wouldn’t allow him to get chopped in the Bastille. The entity that managed to deal with his nonsense and camaraderie for more than 6000 years. The one who broke down the moment he thought he lost Aziraphale.

“Good lord, Crowley. What am I going to do with you?” Aziraphale leaned down to place his forehead on Crowley’s shoulder for stability. “You’re such a mess.”

Crowley grew stiff for a minute before Aziraphale continued. “I’d love for you to move in with me. If it wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Angel?” Crowley asked, taken aback by the sudden suggestion.

With his head still hidden away from Crowley’s point of view, Aziraphale hummed back a reply. “I do love your company, my dear. I care for you more than you think I do. Much more than I did before, not only because of today, but because of everything you’ve done.

Crowley remained silent. Taking in his companion’s words.

“You’ve done so much and people hardly notice it. Both angels and demons up and down below wouldn’t understand the amount of effort you’ve given to the humans.” Aziraphale looked up and cupped Crowley’s cheek with his left hand. “The effort and love you’ve given to me.”

Crowley leaned into Aziraphale’s warm touch. Longing for some warmth after losing a few tears that streamed down his cheek causing a cold spot. “Aziraphale,” Crowley started. “I wouldn’t leave you. Not ever.”

Aziraphale saw the spark in his eyes. The spark that he knows belongs to the Serpent of Eden. The shine that shone whenever he thought up a brilliantly chaotic plan for them both. The light that he’s grown accustomed to after all these years of knowing the other.

“And I won’t too. As long as you continue to breath, my dear. I will remain by your side if you’d let me.”

Crowley tugged Aziraphale into a tight hug as he placed his forehead on Aziraphale’s.

“When have I ever not?” He chuckled and grinned.

If you’d ask a passer-by what occurred in the bookshop that evening. Why the lights were still turned on at 12 am. Why the new books weren’t placed in their respective shelves or desks. They wouldn’t know. But if you dared to ask the cream coloured wearing angel and the black coloured wearing demon what happened inside the bookshop that night, you might not be answered by a coherent reply.

But if you were there that night, watching through the tiny peeks of the blinds. You’d see the mentioned two holding each other dear on the couch. Light haired man reading some book in one hand as he stroked the hair of the dark-haired man on his lap. Sleeping ever so soundly, without a care in the world. As peaceful as they’d like it to be, and as wonderfully middle grounded as they needed it to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it! Nothing much, just a few scenes that I wanted to let out before heading to bed or doing my other requirements. It was also a way for me to express things that I myself couldn't so there's that tiny bit :'D
> 
> Pardon me if I failed to properly explain things. I have the tendency to have a hard time explaining emotions, so sorry hahaha (And hello to Keishia if she reads this uvu)


End file.
